Panic Button
by pickledegg
Summary: The past has a way of catching up to you.


**Author's Note**: Alright, this is my first time writing a Batman fic, so be prepared for vast amounts of OOCness and several artistic liberties taken with the characters. Also, I don't own anyone... except Zach and Danny.

* * *

**She **hadn't wanted to move to Metropolis, away from her family and lingering friends (away from Him), but one look from the Batman told her it was best to not to argue.

He escorted her there personally, handed her a manila folder and keys to the small home where he had deposited her. She opened her mouth, but he growled 'You're going to drive to work tomorrow morning when you accidentally run a red light. Your body is too damaged to be recognizable.' She nods and thinks _He won't be happy _and remembers the time she had been late for a session and He had found Dr. Leland where _she _was supposed to be. He had gone ballistic.

"Good luck," the Dark Knight had said before disappearing into the showy night, his famed automobile not making a sound.

She numbly unlocked the door and staggered into the home. It was one story two bed, one and a half bath, and completely furnished. How the Batman had been able to afford this for her did not register in her mind until the following day. She was tired and her brain hadn't completely realized what had happened, what was happening.

Before she could retreat into the master bedroom, she emptied the contents of the manila folder onto the kitchen counter. A birth certificate, social security card, driver's license, passport, a deed to the house, and an ID badge for the Daily Planet all bearing the name Emily Hart slipped out. Emily didn't attempt to shove all the papers back into the folder and instead slinked down the hall. She flipped the light switch for the first she came to: bathroom, the second rooms light flickered on and her heart plummeted. It was a nursery, painted a pale blue with white trim, complete with a crib, changing station, drawer, and a rocking char. Emily felt her knees shake as crossed the blue rug that covered the wooden floor and collapsed into the chair. Reality had hit her, hard.

She woke up the next day in the chair with tear stained cheeks and fear clutching her heart.

* * *

**Emily **had been in Metropolis for five months when He broke out of Arkham. She was an assistant at the Daily Planet to Clark Kent, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet. He was kind and never spoke to her harshly, despite her many mistakes early on. Sometimes she thought she could see a knowing look cross his face when he thought she wasn't watching, but she chalked it up to being paranoid and seven months pregnant. His wife, Lois, had taken it upon herself to make sure Emily felt at home and was very eager to help her out and introduce her to all her friends and even attended a Lamaze class with Emily once or twice.

Emily click-clacked away on her computer, she was typing up a memo about the appropriate dress code in the office, hardly paying attention to the radio playing overhead, when there was a sudden break in bubble-gummy pop song.

"Public Service Announcement," she looked up curiously, "The Joker, psychotic 'Clown Prince' of Gotham City, has broken out of Arkham Asylum. Citizens of Gotham and the surrounding areas should be on high alert."

The DJ started listing out the various ways to protect yourself, but Emily wasn't paying attention, she froze up and could feel the breath escaping from her chest.

"Lighten up, Hart," Danny from across the room assured, "Metropolis has its own batch of weirdoes, The Joker isn't a problem here."

Emily plastered a smile to her face and nodded as her stomach filled with icy slush. Mr. Kent stepped out of his office took one look at his petrified assistant and suggested, "Why don't you take the rest of the day off, Ms. Hart."

"Th-thank you Mr. Kent," she stammered, not even thinking about protesting modestly and staggered to the elevator, forgetting to turn off her computer or save her word file.

"What's her problem?" Danny asked, earning a reprimanding look from Clark.

* * *

**Emily **Hart had a baby boy she named Zachary John a month later. He was early and she had to be driven to the hospital by Danny because she had been eating lunch, steadily ignoring her increasingly painful contractions and he had been the first person to walk by the room when she had had enough. He even got to cut the cord.

Emily was relieved to see that Zachary had an average skin color and a clump of plain brown hair, though his striking green eyes were a curiosity. The nurse kept chattering about how beautiful they were, while she was trying to convince herself that there was no need to worry.

* * *

**Days **melted into weeks and weeks became months and very soon seven years had past. Emily Hart felt like Emily Hart and some days she could forget that she had ever been anyone different. But in the fuzzy moments between dreaming and being fully awake, her past haunted her and she could never quite shake what her friends called a subconscious aversion to the colors purple and green. When Zach had wanted to paint his room green, she refused, when Sylvia gushed about how the color purple would got so nicely with her brown hair, Emily felt like she might be sick and was disgusted with herself when she felt a light tingle in her chest at the comment. It had been a passing infatuation, she forced herself to believe, but why did it still cling? a small, traitorous part of her mind taunted.

"Mom!" Zach yelled, "There's someone at the door!"

"I'm getting there Honey," she walked past her son, who looked mildly distressed, before returning to playing with his Superman toy.

Her smile as she opened the door froze on her face as she stared into a painfully familiar white face.

His grin widened and he leaned on the door from, His green eyes glinted and looked like He hadn't quite made up His demented mind about something. Emily felt her knees go a bit wobbly, but kept herself strong, as she gave Him what she hoped was a territorial glare.

"Are you sure yellow is your color, toots?" He looked her up and down, and suddenly she felt very self-conscious, "I always saw you in red personally."

She opened her mouth to reply, but instead stood there gaping at Him.

"Well aren't you going to invite me in?" He shut her jaw, "It's only polite."

Rational, sane Emily finally snapped out of her daze and shook her head fiercely (speaking was still unattainable at the moment), she had to protect Zachary.

"Whose there Mom?" speak of the Devil.

"Well, who do we have here?" He purred, Emily's stomach dropped and she stepped in front of her son, but not quickly enough before He got a good look at him. God, she hadn't realized they looked so similar; the lack of cartoonish coloring must've distracted the idea.

His grin stretched even father across His face, "I take she hasn't spilled the beans about me, has she kiddo?" He leered.

"You're the Joker," Zachary said in awe, "I've got your trading card!"

"You _what_?" Emily spun to face her son.

"Well…" Zachary looked at her sheepishly, "I traded Max two Scarecrows for it last week at lunch."

She groaned, momentarily forgetting her visitor, "I knew I should have never let Theresa give you those for your birthday."

While He commentated, "That's it? I'm only worth two Scarecrows? Let me tell yah kid, I've got stories that'll make Johnny quake in the knees."

"Really?" the boy asked enthusiastically.

"No! We are _not _listening to any of Mistah J's stories!" she screeched, before realizing the few drops of Harley that had gotten mixed into the sentence.

"I knew you were in there somewhere Harley-girl!" He cackled, "I was afraid I had gotten the wrong address."

"You know him?" Zach peered around her legs to get a better look.

"Me and you mom go way back, don't we?" He preened, "Has she ever told you about your pop? I, for one, would love to hear the story!"

Emily Hart was sane and strong and most importantly, a mother who wanted to protect her baby boy. She was prepared to whirl around and slug the Clown Prince right in the kisser. Before she could act on that notion, she observed His smiling face (He really did have a beautiful smile) and felt Harley stir slightly in the little place where she had been hiding for so long without so much as a mention about her Puddin'.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Well that was fun wasn't it? This is the kind of stuff I spit out in the middle of the night after hours of reading JxHQ fanfiction. Uh, the Harleen in this story was right on the cusp of becoming Harley Quinn, when she got a reality check and decided to seek the B-Man for help. I believe The Joker was very prepared to kill Harley, but then he decided it would be more fun to mess with her.


End file.
